


Avalanche

by ArtForRogue



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Bachelor Party, Confession via Karaoke, Fluff, M/M, Rated for Cursing and Slight NSFW, drunk schenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 18:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtForRogue/pseuds/ArtForRogue
Summary: Keith gets drunk and decides that confessing your love via karaoke is definitely the way to go.He just didn't expect Shiro to actually turn up.





	Avalanche

**Author's Note:**

> *Music is Avalanche by Walk the Moon  
> I heard this song, immediately grew to love it, and then got attached to a Sheith AU for it. The sad part of this is I didn't even have to look up the lyrics -- like I've literally memorized this song to a fault. 
> 
> Please listen to the song and imagine Keith bouncing around to it pls and thnkx: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6v9_if6YAk

Keith has never felt this drunk in his life.

No.

Fuck that.

Keith has never felt this _good. Ever._

He stopped counting the number of drinks shoved his way somewhere around the mid-teens mark and kept slapping them back, one after the other, with no time to wonder who was sneaking him shots of water. This was Lance’s bachelor party and Keith had promised to be _sociable._ With minimal scowling. To wear the shirt of Lance’s ominous floating head. And to only miss Shiro a little. The maximum amount of alcohol was necessary for this.

Besides, he was failing only his last condition -- and honestly? Lance should be fucking grateful anyway.

This bar was sticky for reasons unknown and Keith couldn’t even begin to guess the language of the music. It had started off in English, then to Spanish, then back to English, but now by drink whatever-the-fuck it all might as well have been a language of the stars. Keith felt the heat of it all deep beneath his skin and into the very strands of his DNA, some mix of stars and shots and a passion he couldn’t yet name in English -- only in the language of the stars that surrounded him.

“Karaoke.” Keith decided.

The bar’s music quieted for just a second like the cosmos agreed. “What?” Pidge yelled back, stuck to the same sticky bar as Keith. She was holding her alcohol way better than Keith, despite being several years younger and several inches closer to the ground.

She was also covered in significantly less glitter. Wait. Where did the glitter come from?

“I want--” The music thrummed against him but it felt _wrong,_ misplaced, like only the right song would bring magic into this hole-in-the-wall. “I want to sing karaoke!”

They both turned to the stage Lance and Hunk were currently swaying on top of, the great distance between them only because they had seen Lance grab for the microphone and known instantly that it’d be a shit-show worth distancing themselves from.

Now, it was Keith’s calling.

“You sure about this, buddy?” Pidge clarified. Keith understood where she was coming from -- he really did -- but with enough alcohol burning through his veins everything sounded like a good idea. His stumble from the bar stood was enough to make Pidge sigh with reluctance and wave the other two men over.

“You sure about this, buddy ol’ pal?” The fact that even Lance was parroting Pidge should have been the warning Keith desperately needed but _fuck that._ Besides, Lance was just as drunk as he was and had made everyone wear these stupid shirts -- where did he find the nerve to tell anyone what _else_ to do?

Whatever expression Keith had must have conveyed that thought pretty clearly, because Lance was quick to pluck the mic from its stand and press it into Keith’s gloved hand. “I’m absolutely going to record this.”

“Good.” Keith flicked Lance off as he stepped onto the stage and headed over to the karaoke machine. It held a larger selection than he originally thought it would, and as pleased to see it had the exact song that was thrumming under his skin.

Keith keyed in his alias, picked his song, and stood center stage.

There was no crowd to speak of, which worked to his mood just fine. Keith didn’t need any particular set of eyes on him right now -- he just wanted the relief of uninhibited and complete honesty with himself.

He was still aware of Lance’s phone trained on him and the grins plastered on his friends’ faces.

Whatever. That was a problem for sober Keith.

The opening chords were like a call to arms -- Keith parted his lips and answered in turn.

 

…

 

The endless chirp of his phone’s notifications was annoying enough for Shiro that he was tempted to glance down and turn it on silent. But the roads were always weird at 3 AM -- it wasn’t worth the risk, especially when he had been the one reluctantly assigned to the Designated Driver role.

Only because he was going to be up to the wee hours of the morning grading finals anyway, but still. Shiro could have used this night of drinking just as much as Hunk, Pidge, or Keith, and wonders for the third time that very night if he was overworking himself with both his doctorate and TA responsibilities.

Having Keith as a best friend _and_ roommate at least meant that Shiro could count on a fresh cup of coffee delivered to his workdesk every other hour. Sometimes with whipped cream. Always with a smile that Shiro had long discovered was reserved for him, and him alone.

Shiro tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he thought about the overly cute and slap-happy drunk Keith he had missed out on by opting to grade papers.

As he turned into the parking lot of the Castle of Lions, Shiro’s phone lit up with one last notification and he was reminded of the flurry they had been coming in at previously. It might have been cause for concern had they not all been Snapchats from Lance.

Shiro pursed his lips in a tight line and hoped that this wasn’t the Bachelor Boy’s way of requesting a longer deadline. It was nearing closing hours, but Coran always did have a soft spot for their group -- even before Allura started dating Lance. They had started their Friday night M&M sessions there initially out of convenience since it was the closest bar to campus, but over time it grew to something more.

Coran always let repeat customers have happy hour prices an hour earlier than they were supposed to.

The secret Kaltenecker burger recipe was literally out of this world.

The group as a whole had logged enough hours on the karaoke machine that the other regular patrons begged them to sing something new.

As a whole, it should be embarrassing for a bunch of graduate students to be locals in a tiny bar normally filled with old retirees -- but no. It suited them just fine.

Case and point, Shiro had automatically parked in his unofficial ‘spot’ before unlocking his phone and flipping through the first few snaps. They were the standard Lance affair; Hunk and Pidge doing shots, Keith sucking on a lime and scowling, the blurred motion of a phone being waved frantically to the beat of the music.

He would have gone farther in, but a text popped up and he clicked it out of habit.

> **Lance:** I get yr probly driving but pleas be here soon

> **Shiro:** I actually just parked. I’ll be right in.

He thought that was enough to satisfy Lance for the moment and went to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat, but more texts came flooding in.

> **Lance:** omg plz!!! Plas don’t freak !! Ok
> 
> Keith is on stg awd we dont wanna scare I’m
> 
> Shiro its so like
> 
> This bst party evrr

Shiro squinted at the screen in hopes it would allow him to translate Lance’s frantic, drunk texting, but all it did was make the letters swim. It didn’t seem like a warning to avoid coming inside, so Shiro finished hauling himself out of his car and walked the short trek up the gravel pathway to the front door.

As he slid inside, Shiro caught the tune of a familiar song. It was something he’d definitely heard on the radio in the slog of the morning drive to school, but that wasn’t what made it memorable. It was catchy, sure, and Shiro liked pop songs as much as the next guy, but he remembered this one in particular because he caught Keith humming along.

Fuck, what was the song?

He was wondering if Keith had requested it in his drunken stupor when the first words caught him.

_“Eighteen...thousand-year-old soul,_   
_Midwest shooting star_   
_In the days she waits_   
_But she moonlights rock’n’roll  
Play the rain dance with her guitar”_

Shiro frowned at the clash of the familiar song and unfamiliar voice, finally grasping that this was the karaoke machine he was hearing and not the weird radio station Coran always insisted on. He knew the bar was empty, save for her employees and his own friends -- the vacant parking lot could tell him that much -- but that was definitely not Hunk or Lance’s singing voice.

Oh. ‘Keith is on stg’. It all clicked together the moment Shiro made his way through the deserted diner tables.

Even having walked himself to the only possible conclusion, Shiro still couldn’t come to terms with the sight of Keith singing karaoke. The fact that he was _good_ startled him less; having lived together for the last six years of school, Shiro had heard Keith’s uninhibited shower singing more than once. Shiro would also hear him sing along when they turned up the car radio to Shiro’s favorite pop song of the week, bashful but still smiling with the windows rolled down at the sun staining them with warmth.

There was nothing shy about Keith now.

He stood, center-stage, bathed in the soft purple lights that Coran had deemed appropriate for his karaoke debut. Keith’s dark hair had long since stuck to his skin, framing his sharp jaw and wide, star-fill eyes. That playful smile and bob to the music was undoubtedly fueled by alcohol but still just as hypnotic.

_“Sometimes you only get one chance_ _  
_ _Oh!”_

Keith jumped at the uptick of the beat with a grin, so, so free at that moment, so uncaring as he paced the stage and put on a _show._ Shiro was aware of his slack-jawed look and the fact that the rest of their friends were starting to notice his presence, but fuck if he could look away from Keith right now.

“ _You gotta look in your eyes_   
_I knew you in a past life…!_   
_One glance and the avalanche drops_ _  
One look and my heartbeat stops”_

The microphone stand was abandoned as Keith walked the stage, singing and pouring his heart out and working the microphone in a way Shiro knew was objectively gross but it looked so --

Shiro didn’t know when he had made his rule for himself, but he wasn’t allowed to look at Keith this way. It was an unspoken agreement between them -- no matter how many moments came so close to breaking that, be it their hands brushing while they were out, or Keith falling asleep on him during movie night, or even Shiro walking in on Keith while he was using the shower and there was that tense moment where something felt like it was meant to happen, just like now, just like every time, and --

_“Ships pass in the night_ _  
_ _I don’t wanna wait ‘til the next life…!”_

On the upturn of his voice and the quick break for breath, Keith’s gaze met Shiro’s own and he forgot every worry that plagued him.

_“One glance and the avalanche drops_ _  
_ _One look and my heartbeat stops”_

There was no strength in Shiro’s body left to move so he accepted his seat against the deserted table, hips digging into the edge of it as he leaned back and watched Keith have the time of his life.

It was obvious that he was drunk now that Shiro was able to concentrate on something other than the flutter of his eyelashes and the swing of his hips. Even if the motions of him on stage were fluid, the color painting his cheeks betrayed Keith by making it painfully obvious how many drinks were currently sloshing around in his system.

As the next verse started up and Keith jumped again, with just a peek of skin flashing from the rise of his shirt, Shiro wondered if Keith was going to barf at the end of this.

The fact that even that somehow managed to illicit a terribly fond smile from Shiro was so objectively horrifying that he wondered if _he_ was going to barf at the end of this.

But the song wasn’t awfully long and the original burn of courage from the alcohol was quickly leaving Keith high and dry -- he finally stood stock in the middle of the stage and opened his eyes to stare into the darkness of the bar. Even with the cloak of it shielding Shiro from that gaze, he felt called out.

_“Universe won't wait for you_

Keith nearly whispered into the microphone, lips brushing against the cool gray metal.

_It's do or die, whatcha gon, gon, gonna to do”_

The rest of the song went downhill from there -- Keith missed song lyrics he obviously knew by heart and the sweat on his skin made his bangs stick to his face. But he still smiled and finished with a bit of grace, breathing hard as he belted out the last few lines.

_“I don't want to wait 'til the next life_   
_One glance and the avalanche drops_   
_One look and my heartbeat  
stops”_

With the death of the song came the swelling applause from Keith’s meager audience, Shiro included. Keith blinked a few times up on the stage as the lights lifted and the look of surprise on his face once he spotted Shiro was so precious he wished someone had a camera at the ready.

A shutter click to his right said Lance was on the case. Awesome.

But that surprise quickly morphed into a full-blown panic and Shiro watched as Keith fumbled with the microphone stand in an attempt to hurry off the stage before Coran could read out his review. The chord was tangled from Keith’s shifting around, though, so he was still trying to fix it when Coran called over the loudspeakers, “A lovely take on Walk the Moon’s ‘ _Avalanche_ ’! I wouldn’t have guessed that was a favorite of yours, but I will honestly take anything other than ‘ _Hips Don’t Lie_ ’ at this point. So.”

Coran continued as Keith hurried off the stage, boots thumping against the dark cherry wood in a vain attempt to reach the exit faster. “Let’s give it up for _Future Mr. Shirogane!_ ”

Now it was just one pair of clapping hands, a poor contrast to the booming applause from earlier. Keith had frozen in place on the short stairwell, eyes sweeping every part of the bar except where Shiro was standing, understandably, because to him  this was probably so embarrassing he wanted to die.

Instead, Keith just stumbled down the rest of the stairs and threw up.

 

…

 

“O-kay, everyone in the car?” Shiro checked the rear-view mirror one last time before sliding his gaze to the unwilling passengers crushed into his tiny Prius. “Seatbelts?”

“Yes, _Dad._ ” Pidge groaned, which set the rest of them groaning, which near turned to a yell when Shiro slowly turned the radio up. The radio was quickly shut off again.

Hunk, the decidedly most sober one, was riding passenger-side while Pidge, Keith, and Lance were all scrunched up in the back. It wasn’t the safest layout, but campus wasn’t far. Shiro turned on his lights and slid out of the parking lot.

“Thatwassoamazin’.” It was hard to tell who was slurring their words in the back, but Shiro had to guess it was Lance. His thoughts were further confirmed when he added, “WeshouldhaveinvitedAllura.”

No one had the strength to comment on the idea of inviting the bride to her groom’s bachelor party, so the car fell into silence. In fact, much of the night had ended in silence. Shiro couldn’t begin to guess why.

Oh, wait. He definitely could.

Silence was fine. Welcome, even, because Shiro’s internal screaming barely allowed for him to concentrate on the road as it was.

It wasn’t until after they dropped of Hunk and Pidge that someone decided to break said silence. That it was Lance was no surprise, but the soft tone of his voice was enough to make even Shiro pause. “I’m getting married.” Lance murmured with a quiet reverence.

Keith answered with a soft laugh of his own. “Sure are, Lance.”

“What if I mess this up? I want to be -- I want to be good for Allura. I know we both have our flaws, but her flaws are, like, that one time she accidentally ate mold and mine are --”

“Don’t go down this road, Lance.” Shiro stopped this destructive train of thought while he could, fingers drumming slow along the steering wheel as they waited at a red light.

“We’re all going down a road.” The snarky reply earned some kind of jab from Keith, judging by the sharp ‘ow!’ that resonated a moment later. “...I just want to be a good husband.”

Keith beat Shiro to the punch. “You _will_ be. You love her. She loves you.” There was a slight rustle of cloth as Keith put his arm around Lance’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “You’re so much less annoying now. So much, Lance.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

Ignoring Lance’s flat tone, Keith continued on, saying, “You told me that she makes you want to be a better person. You’ve managed it. Done deal.”

Shiro kept his eyes on the road and tried not to laugh over Keith’s drunk assurance.

“Even better, you didn’t do _anything_ I did. You didn’t -- you didn’t tell her she was like a _sister_ to you, you didn’t fucking move in with her under the guise of being best friend roommates only, you didn’t give yourself the most _fucking embarrassing stage name on earth_ \--”

Shiro suddenly didn’t feel like laughing anymore. He could hear the sound of Lance now comforting Keith, who was breathing heavily as no doubt walked himself through every poor life choice he had dragged himself through. But they were pulling up to Lance’s apartment now and there was nowhere left to hide.

“Lance.” Shiro turned in his seat and put on his best comforting smile, saying, “Go. Be great.”

Lance gave Keith a few more reassuring pats on the back before abandoning both his friends to their fate. Shiro left the car parked and running, figuring Keith would want to climb upfront, but watched as he awkwardly shifted in the back seat.

“You coming up?”

Keith’s gaze shot up to Shiro and he looked ready to deny it. There might have been some excuse settling on his tongue, but Shiro just raised an eyebrow and waited. There was the unspoken question of ‘what now?’ and though Shiro had his answer, it looked like Keith was still waiting for the fallout. Like he was expecting to be kicked out of the Prius for finally being truthful.

When Keith finally bit the bullet and climbed into the front seat, Shiro couldn’t help but smile.

Honestly, Shiro wouldn’t have cared if they had this conversation in the car or in their apartment, was counting on the exhaustion of the night to keep them both mute, but Keith look so uncomfortable next to him that it felt necessary to drag up.

Shiro put on his left blinker and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Keith’s voice was barely audible from where he sat with his cheek against the glass. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” It was hard to keep glancing at Keith while he was driving, but there was hardly any traffic out at 4 am so he was afforded a few extra peeks.

Keith looked haunted at Shiro’s affirmation.

He had looked like he was going to cry as soon as they left the bar, a fact that didn’t match the glitter smeared in his hair and the soft t-shirt with Lance’s face on it that he had been forced to wear.

Shiro drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he said, “I think it’ll be really easy to transition pizza night to date night.” When Keith didn’t say anything to that, Shiro continued, eyes on the road of their apartment complex, “And if we’re dating that means I get to pick the ice cream flavors _all_ the time.”

A wet hiccup to his right near made Shiro slam on the breaks, but he eased up when he heard Keith’s laugh contained in it. Finally, he pulled away from the window and leaned back in the seat, one long stretch pulling and releasing Keith Kogane into something more relaxed. He sighed on the way down and dropped his hands into his lap. “Fine. But we’re moving into my room -- it has the better view.”

The parking lot was barely touched by moonlight, but it fell on them just as they met for their first kiss.

 

...

 

They had slept in separate rooms at Shiro’s insistence, but come morning Keith got up, showered, and knocked on Shiro’s door wearing nothing but a towel and a question.

Shiro’s answer may have been a _bit_ too enthusiastic.

**Author's Note:**

> Shiro and Keith absolutely go see them in concert for their anniversary and sing obnoxiously in the crowd. 
> 
> Please come say hi on Twitter @formsheith !


End file.
